Say Something
by Kirin Skydancer
Summary: Victor always carried Logan, even when he lost all hope
1. Chapter 1

"Say something." I shook Jimmy's arm, careful not to hurt him.

No answer. I shook harder, stopping and turning to face the kid. It was to cold, my breath turned to frost before it reached his face. He wasn't going to make it much longer.

"Say something!" My voice cracked this time, my fingers drew blood from under his thin shirt. He had lost his jacket somewhere along the way, to one of the dogs.

James stared at me with vacant eyes, his lips pale. He wasn't shivering, if I let go of him he would wander aimlessly into the trees.

I scowled at him, letting a puff of air escape my lips, and then grabbed his arm and started half dragging him along. Again.

He wasn't going to make it. I walked another few steps, repeating the words in my head. He's not going to make it. I glanced at him, saw the puffs of frost coming out of his mouth, then looked up again. There were lights shining between the trees, blurred by the flying snow.

"Come on." I shook the kid again. "Talk to me." His eyes were fixed on his feet, the arm that I wasn't holding onto was dangling at his side. He didn't react. I didn't expect him to. His lips were tinged with blue now.

I slogged through the snow, banging my shoulder against a tree that came out of nowhere. The houses were so close, candles in the windows and smoke curling out of the chimneys. I slung James over my shoulders and staggered towards them. The first house was shabby, the windows lined with light blue paint that had seen better days. I tripped over broken boards on the deck, boards that I couldn't see. My fist hit the door when I fell, dropping to my knees on the splintery wood.

It creaked open, blinding me. "Dear God." Someone was shouting into the house, shaking me by the shoulders.

"What happened?" I heard the voice say, saw the mouth move.

"Say something." I mumbled, my hand wrapping around James's wrist. "Say something."

He didn't move.

**A/N This was written in memory of the most frightening day of my life. I ended up carrying someone who weighed a good twenty pounds more then me for eight miles, through a blizzard, in August. And three quarters of my group, including the adults, was missing in action. Needless to say, I will be going on that Nordic training camp again. **


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Being the poor type, I do not own X-men, nor do I make any money off this piece.

The First Winter

I cracked open my eyes and found myself staring into the face of a large, exceptionally ugly mutt. I flinched back, cracking my head on the side of something hard.

"Damn." I hissed under my breath, glancing around.

Rough-hewn table, wooden chairs, scuffed floor. Jimmy curled up next to a fire. He was awake, clutching a blanket around his skinny shoulders. Some color had returned to his sallow face.

"Morning." He managed a ghost of a smile.

I grunted, looking for the owners of the house.

"They're upstairs." Jimmy muttered, twisting a corner of the blanket in his hands.

Someone had bandaged his knuckles. The rags looked clean enough. I wondered what story he had told them about the cuts on his hands.

I grabbed the edge of the table, levering myself to my feet. "We have to go." The walls of the house were pressing in on me, making me feel trapped.

"They want to help us, Victor." Jimmy whispered. "I don't want to leave."

The kid was still to trusting, still thought that people always wanted to help him.

I held back a laugh, barely. "We're murders." I scuffed my way over to him, kneeling on the edge of the blanket. "If they find out we're dead." I refused to say that he was the murderer. He wouldn't be able to handle it, and I was willing to share the blame for now.

"It's cold out there." He clutched the blanket more tightly, looking up at me with wide eyes.

I started to tell him that I didn't care, that we could steal some warmer clothes, when footsteps interrupted me.

"You're awake." It was a mans voice, deep and rumbling. I twitched around to face the man, crouching in front of Jimmy.

"Yeah." I watched his feet, medium sized and covered in worn boots.

Jimmy grabbed my arm, "It's okay Victor."

The man grinned down at me, reaching out a hand to help me to my feet. "Your brother is right, young man. I want to help you."

I hesitated, finally ignoring the hand and getting to me feet. I braced one hand on the top of the table, trying to keep my balance. "We don't need any help." I kept my voice just on the wrong side of polite.

The man didn't seem bothered by my tone. He pushed his graying hair out of his eyes and pulled out a chair. "Your brother told me that you're orphans."

I glanced back at James, nodding. I let myself smile at him; he was starting to pull his own weight. Maybe he wasn't as trusting as I thought. "That's right."

"It's a bad winter this year. If the two of you need a place to stay, I'd be happy to keep you here."

I shook my head, "No. We have relatives just down the road. We can stay with them." I glared at the man, "We don't need help."

"I think you do." He sighed, waving a hand at Jimmy, "He was half dead when you got here. You weren't much better off. It took my wife hours before either of you started to warm up." He paused, glancing at me, "If you won't stay here, at least take some warmer clothes. Our sons are to big for then now, they'd be happy to see them getting some use."

I started to refuse; I didn't want any debts to strangers. But there was a grain of truth to what he was saying. "Fine. We'll take some clothes."

The man nodded, standing up and pulling an armload of winter clothes out of a chest near the door. "Take some food to, at least. It'll make the wife happy."

Jimmy gave the house a final backward glance, "Why couldn't we stay?" He whined, shoving his hands into the pockets of his new coat.

I didn't answer, but put my hand in the small of his back and pushed him down the road, "Keep moving." I hesitated, "And don't ask questions."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N **This is part two of at least three, most likely 10ish parts. All mistakes are mine, I do not own X-men.

The First Spring

The snow was nearly gone. The ground had turned to thick, oozing mud. Jimmy was clinging to my back, his hands wrapped around the straps of our pack.

"When are we going to stop?" He grumbled.

"When I say we can." I took another step, tipping my foot up so the mud wouldn't suck my to big shoe off my foot.

"I'm hungry." Jimmy whined again. I liked him better when he was too sick to whine, he was much less annoying.

"I don't care." I snarled, stepping up onto a fallen tree trunk to get out of the mud.

Jimmy slipped off my back, facing me with his hands hanging limply by his sides. His eyes were shadowed; his face was streaked with mud. I didn't look much better. The last month had been the worst, even harder then the first few days. There was nothing to eat, no dry places to sleep. It was wet and cold, we were hungry. I couldn't complain.

I shoved Jimmy between the shoulder blades, propelling him down the log. At least he didn't have to worry about loosing his shoes; they'd worn out weeks ago.

"Keep your eyes open for food." I told him, starting to trudge again.

We walked until the sun was in danger of disappearing, huddling under a group of trees at the edge of a good-sized town.

"I'm hungry." Jimmy whispered, tugging at my sleeve.

"I know." I pulled my arm out of his grasp, "We'll go get something in a minute." I didn't want to go out in the rain, not that it would make much of a difference. We were so wet already that we could have gone swimming and been dryer. But the rain showed no sign of letting up, and after a few more minutes of listening to my younger brother's stomach rumble I stood up.

Jimmy bounced to his feet, eyes alight with excitement. "Where are we going?"

"The church first." I shoved my hands into my pockets, "If they don't have anything we can go the market."

We walked down the empty streets, looking for the church. Pastors tended to be more giving with their money, and their food, then other town's people. The building was small, well kept, and brightly lit. Best of all, it was warm and dry. But empty. I dropped onto one of the pews, stripping off my dripping coat and swinging it over the back, to dry.

"Where's the pastor?" Jimmy whispered, twisting around to look around the church.

"I don't know." I looked through our pack for anything to eat, and found a soggy piece of bread. I ripped it in half and offered the bigger piece to Jimmy.

He took it, eyeing the grayish tint to the crust, and took a bite.

"We'll spend the night here." I ate my piece of bread, hungry enough that I didn't mind the gritty taste.

Jimmy sighed, "But I'm hungry."

I took a deep breath, trying not to snap at him. "I know."


	4. Chapter 4

The First Fall

"Catch it, Jimmy!" I raced after the rabbit, trying the heard it toward my brother. He lunged for the rodent, his hands missing by a fraction of an inch. I jumped over him, skidding over the rocky ground to put myself between the creature and its hole. The rabbit swerved back into arms reach and I snatched at it.

My fingers wrapped around its neck, snapping it in a single smooth motion. Jimmy was brushing dirt off his bare chest, watching blood well up out of the scratches in his skin. He smeared the blood away, the scratches already closing.

"Damn." I grinned at him, "Looks like we're going to have dinner tonight." I pushed my hair out of my face and gutted the rabbit quickly.

Jimmy had picked up the pack, lying where I had tossed it, and waited near the edge of the clearing. I slung the corpse over my shoulder, kicked some dirt over the piles of entrails, and followed.

"Back to camp, Jimmy." I called to my brothers, following him as he jogged through the woods.

"I'll beat you there." He shouted back, racing through the trees.

I swore, sprinting after him.


	5. Chapter 5

The Second Winter

"This is stealing." Jimmy's arms were crossed over his still bare, scrawny chest.

I pulled another coat off the line, "Sure." I eyed my nails for a second, "These people have enough money to get new ones." I pointed at the house, sitting isolated in the middle of perfectly manicured lawns and artfull sculptures.

Jimmy sniffed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Its not right."

I snorted, "I hate to break it to you, but we aren't exactly normal, Jimmy." I pointed up at the house again, "They don't give a damn about us."

He looked thoughtfull for a moment, his arms still crossed, "We never ask for help."

I pulled him toward me by the strap of our ragged backpack, throwing my arms around his shoulders. "That's because we don't have to. We're just like animals to them. We don't have to follow their rules."

I was grasping at straws, trying to get him to forget that we were thieves. Because stealing was wrong, but so was a kid spending the winter without a coat.

He nodded, "Okay." He wasn't convinced. I decided that I wasn't going to bring him on the next raid.

I swallowed, grinned, and slung one of the coats over his shoulders. "That's right. Let's go."

We made it to the main street of the town before he noticed that I wasn't wearing one of the coats, even thought snow was drifting down.

I shurugged off his questions, "I'm not cold. No sense in gettin' them dirty or ripped now." In fact, I was overheating in the thin wool shirt that I had taken, tugging at the collar.

Jimmy noticed, "Are you getting sick?"

"We don't get sick." I shoved the back of his head, kicked some mud onto his pants.

He looked at me worriedly until we got to the shack that we were staying in, glancing over his shoulder to watch me.

"Forget it, Jimmy. I'm fine." I forced myself to put on one of the coats. "I'm gonna find you some shoes. Don't go anywhere." I trudged down the path, back into town, pretending that I didn't know he was following me. It was good practice for him. Tracking something nice and big.

I felt around in my pants pocket for the coins that we had managed to get. Jimmy made a good begger with his child's face and frail body—just frail now, not sickly. People loved him, showered him with coins. We had enough for one pair of good shoes. I would have to made due with mine for another winter.

The cobbler was nice enough, a middle aged woman who took far to much intrest in ragged teenaged boys.

"Who are these for?" She asked, bustling around the tiny shop.

I tapped my fingernails on the counter distractedly, looking out the window for Jimmy. "My brother."

"Oh? And how big is he." She smiled at me.

I glanced at her, realizing that I was enough to look straight across instead of up. "He's ten (1)."

"Oh." She pulled down a box, "Will these fit him then. They were my nephew's, but he grew so much that he hardly used them."

The shoes that she offered me were to big for Jimmy, but not by much. We could stuff them with something. "Yeah." I shoved the coins at her.

She prompty handed half of them back, "I couldn't take that much for these old things." Another smile, "Not from a boy as handsome as yourself."

I decided not to tell her that those were the nicest shoes I had seen in years. Tough leather soles, lined with fur. "Thank you." I mumbled, scooping up the box and stepping out of the shop.

Jimmy made a break for it, trying to slip down one of the alleys. I grabbed him and pulled him back.

"I told you to stay put." I growled, shoving the box into his stomach.

His hands wrapped around it awkwardly. "I know." He looked up at me, trying to gage my mood. "I was…I wanted to…I got you something." He finaly managed.

I stopped dragging him down the street, he stumbled into my leg. "How did you get the money?" I hadn't been in the store for that long, he didn't carry the money with him.

Jimmy pulled a long hunting knife from under his shirt, holding it up to me. "Someone left it laying on the street. I didn't think you would mind." His eyes were seeking praise.

I hadn't realized he would take my comment about stealing to heart. I wanted to put the knife back for a second, or drop it on the ground. "Nicely done, James." I ruffled his hair, swung my arm around his neck. "Very good…Are you sure on one saw you?"

A/N I'm guessing on Jimmy's age (1). If anyone knows how old they were, please tell me.


	6. Chapter 6

The First War

War was good. Food, beds, fights, enough faces that no one would notice a pair of dirty Canadians.

We were fighting for the North. Jimmy picked the side; I didn't give a damn who we were fighting for, just as long as we were together. He had said that I could pick the side next time. We'd laughed at that. Laughed at the poor frail humans that wouldn't make it through the day, much less the next war. We were immortal. We were at home in the slaughter, the blood.

I lost him. Somewhere in the smoke and the bodies he disappeared. I wasn't worried, not in the middle of a battle. The rocks had separated our force; men were dropping on all sides.

"Jimmy!" I shouted, tossing my musket down and extending my claws. The bullets stung, ripped through my skin and, occasionally, something more. By the time I hauled myself up the boulders, out of the slaughter, most of the men were dead. I cut my way through the few that were still on their feet, searching for my brother.

Someone had the brains to hide in a tree. The shot was good; I dropped like a rock. My hands covered the hole in my chest, my lungs worked for air. Then nothing.

When I woke up doctors were already searching through the piles of bodies. They seemed surprised when I joined them, staring at the blood covering my chest and face.

"Jimmy!" I called, hopping back down into the gullies between the rocks. "Damn it, Jimmy. Answer me."

Someone put a hand on my shoulder, "Its alright son, we'll find him. Why don't you sit down for a moment?"

I swatted the hand away, dug into a pile of corpses. Someone groaned behind me, and I whipped around. A boy was crawling toward me, clutching his leg.

"Please help." He whispered, reaching out.

I walked away, still searching. His scent was covered with the smells of blood and fear. I felt blind.

"Jimmy!" I shouted, moving out of the rocks now, and up the side of one of the small hills.

Another groan, familiar this time. I traced the sound to the base of a tree and dropped onto my knees.

My brother was slumped sideways, bullet holes in his chest and head slowly knitting together. I wrapped my arms under his shoulders, lifting him up.

"Come on, Jimmy, say something." I listened to his heartbeat, watching the snow fall slowly through the trees.

**A/N** this is the end, at least for this story. Thanks for the reviews, I hope you enjoyed it!


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